


It Doesn't Mean Anything

by honeysoftt



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boys In Love, Denial of Feelings, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Tags Are Hard, Underage Drinking, i guess, it's a little angsty, they're soft boys in love okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 15:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12213870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysoftt/pseuds/honeysoftt
Summary: "He licks his lips and glances at Dennis and finds him studying Mac so intensely he thinks maybe Dennis’ eyes are the sun and he’s burning through his skin on purpose. Maybe Dennis is the sun. Mac thinks he’ll definitely be the end of him."Mac and Dennis go to a party to celebrate making it to the end of high school and maybe they get a little drunk and maybe there's a little exploration of feelings and maybe they kiss a bit and maybe they cry a bit too.





	It Doesn't Mean Anything

**Author's Note:**

> Took some liberties with the uh the religious aspects here because...I wanted to? And I don't really remember how all of that operates in the show. Do I have to clarify that this is my first fic? This is my first fic.
> 
> OH also I'm gonna entirely ignore what Rob and Glenn actually looked like in high school for the sake of this fic and I suggest that you do too. Okay that's all.

They stumble into Dennis’ room at 4 am the next morning. They were supposed to have stayed in that night but when was Dennis ever actually going to listen to what Frank told him to do, especially if Mac was involved? Especially if Mac told him there would be alcohol and weed and maybe some hot girls involved. Dennis would do anything with him. Anything.

So they stumble in together at 4 am, the cold air still gripping their bodies though inside they feel warm. They’re stumbling in together, Mac’s fingers fumbling to grab Dennis’ forearms, their feet tangling together as they fall through the door almost as one, laughing despite themselves.

“Shhh,” Dennis hisses as he quietly shuts the door, though any power behind it is lost as he seemingly breaks out into laughter between each syllable he speaks. Mac disentangles from him to step back, take one look at Dennis and fall into a fit of laughter again, collapsing back on his unmade bed. Dennis swears his face hurts from smiling so much, feels as if he’s been crying from laughing so hard. He can’t even remember what was so funny.

He steps over to the bed and looks at Mac lying there, his head falling to the side as he laughs at nothing in particular. Dennis considers for a moment how everything feels so clear yet blurry all at once. His thoughts are crisp and focused, vision set on Mac and only Mac, yet there’s a faint humming in the background. Everything else is fuzzy. Nothing else is real. Just Mac. Only Mac.

His leather jacket is bunched up under his arms from the fall, several sizes too big, stolen from his dad, embedded with the smell of smoke. Mac wears it to make himself look strong, tough, badass, but Dennis just thinks it accentuates his softness, makes him look small. Mac insists he just has to grow into it. Get more bigger. Dennis kind of loves him. Mac’s white tank top, stained with beer from that night or many nights, has ridden up, exposing the skin on his hips, the flesh of his stomach. His jeans ride loose just under his hipbones, full of holes torn down his legs. The only thought in Dennis’ mind is that he just wants to touch him, overwhelmingly. 

Mac sits up slowly, Dennis’ eyes following his movements as he shucks the leather jacket and drops it to the floor by his feet, lying back on the bed and sighing in content. Dennis feels something constrict deep in his chest as he just watches Mac lying there, looking indescribably soft, all bare arms, ruffled hair, and worn clothes, just begging for the embrace of Dennis’ arms, the caress of his hands.

Dennis also notes the gold cross that’s fallen against Mac’s neck, and feels everything inside of him go cold.

He lies down clumsily next to Mac, whose breathing has gone soft and calm, relaxed. They lie together in silence for a bit, staring at the ceiling.

“You didn’t kiss any girls tonight,” Mac says after a while, his voice low and quiet, so much so that Dennis almost doesn’t hear it. It sounds like a soft realization, a gentle epiphany, more than a statement or a question.

“Neither did you,” Dennis responds, though, it’s not like he expected him to. Mac stopped looking at girls a long time ago. He thought nobody noticed but they all did. Everyone saw the way his eyes followed other boys in the school halls, if only for a couple of seconds before he would catch himself and turn a little red. Everyone saw the way he looked at Dennis. It all started happening around the same time he started wearing the cross, going to church, talking about God. Mrs. Mac and Luther weren’t all that big on it. It was all Mac.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but his hand falls from his stomach to his side where it sits against Dennis’. Dennis’ hand twitches but neither pulls away.

“There weren’t a lot of hot girls there.” Mac’s voice is somehow loud and yet far away at the same time. Dennis nods.

There were a couple of girls there that caught Dennis’ attention. He could appreciate them and did from a distance. But he wasn’t interested enough to want to make out with them. He hung by Mac’s side all night, arm thrown over his shoulder or loosely wrapped around his waist or hand gentle against his back. Mac hadn’t said anything about it. Not once. Just leaned into the touch everytime.

“A couple of guys, though,” Dennis whispers absentmindedly, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them, seeing the gold cross winking at him from the corner of his eyes. Mac’s hand shifted against his but didn’t move away.

“Yeah,” He whispers back after a while.

Another moment of silence passes as Dennis tries to figure out how to proceed from here. Mac was obviously in just the right state to not have a moment of panic. These kinds of moments were so rare, so fragile, Dennis is so afraid to make the wrong move and ruin everything. To drive Mac further away after such a good night. A happy night.

He rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and looking over at Mac. Mac’s eyes are fixed to the ceiling, flicking around as if he’s watching something move across the surface. Dennis wonders what’s going on in Mac’s head right now. Imagines it can’t be good. He raises his hand and gently trails his fingertips along Mac’s arm, running them up and down a couple times in a comforting gesture before he settles his hand on Mac’s hip, skin on skin.

Mac’s body feels like it’s set aflame at just Dennis’ touch. His arm tingles from the ghost of Dennis’ fingers, a forest fire spreading rapidly from his hip across his body. He licks his lips and glances at Dennis and finds him studying Mac so intensely he thinks maybe Dennis’ eyes are the sun and he’s burning through his skin on purpose. Maybe Dennis is the sun. Mac thinks he’ll definitely be the end of him.

“Are you gonna miss me?” Dennis says suddenly, his hand pressing against Mac’s hip. Mac’s brain is slow to catch up and then he remembers why they went out tonight. They had just finished their finals, senior year was ending. In a couple of days they were graduating, and then Dennis would be off to UPenn to become a vet or whatever. Mac wouldn’t be alone, he’d have Charlie, of course. And Dennis wouldn’t be far. He would still be in Philly. They would be close. But not as close as they were now. Not as close as they were in this moment.

Dennis watches the emotions pass on Mac’s face. He feels a little pride swell up in his chest at the thought of Mac missing him while he’s gone.

“Yeah,” Mac finally answers, his voice a little rough. Dennis hums, smiles, and ducks his head. He doesn’t say he’ll miss him too. But he will.

He allows his hand to shift from Mac’s hip, fingers spreading and sliding under Mac’s tank top, pressing against the skin there. Mac’s body is so warm and Dennis’ fingers are so cold. Dennis slowly trails his hand further, slipping it fully under Mac’s tank and against his stomach, ghosting against his abs. He watches as Mac squeezes his eyes shut, fights an inner battle with himself.

“Fuck,” He breathes out finally, eyes blinking open and locking with Dennis’. Dennis smirks down at him and Mac feels his body go limp.

Dennis slides his hand further to grip Mac’s side, moving closer against him and leaning up, just brushing his lips against Mac’s jaw. Mac’s all but stopped breathing. His mind feels like it’s racing with a thousand thoughts a second yet somehow it’s completely blank and he wonders how that’s even fucking possible. He notices his head shifting, baring his neck more to Dennis, seemingly against his own will. Dennis slides his hand up to grab Mac’s cross with two fingers, thumb running against the cross as he kisses his neck.

“Den,” Mac tries, voice caught somewhere in his throat. “Dennis.”

Dennis pulls back, wild grin on his face as he leans over Mac. He releases the cross and lets it fall back against Mac’s throat before running his hand quickly through his hair and then bringing it to rest against his ribcage.

“Yeah?”

Mac stares up at Dennis with dark eyes wide with fear. His heart’s pounding so heavily in his chest he thinks he’s going to burst open any moment. He really thinks he will. He’ll burst open and Dennis will crawl right inside him where he’s always belonged. Mac thinks he’d be empty without him.

“Kiss me,” Mac says quietly, jaw set despite the slight trembling of his lips.

Something flashes in Dennis’ eyes, something Mac doesn’t even begin to try to recognize. He shifts again, swinging his leg over to straddle Mac, leaning down to barely ghost his breath against Mac’s lips, one hand steady against his ribs, feeling his heartbeat through his chest, the other gently against Mac’s cheek, thumb pressing against bone.

“Yeah?” Dennis asks, his voice low and soft. Mac nods in response, his eyes falling shut in anticipation. Dennis ignores the feeling of his heart in his chest, ignores its overbearing presence, takes in Mac in this moment and feels only pride. “You want that, Mac? You want me to kiss you?”

“Please,” Mac breathes, eyes flashing to meet Dennis’ with more honesty and openness than Dennis thinks he can really handle. He hesitates for a moment, everything so quiet and so loud and so simple yet so overwhelming all at once. Mac sees the expression on his face falter only for a moment before Dennis is leaning in, pressing his lips finally against his, and Mac feels all of the air sucked out of his lungs.

And his brain shuts off.

For just a moment.

It’s him on a bed with Dennis kneeling over him. They’re in the dark, complete silence save for their breath coming in soft and slow. The gentle creak of the bed as they shift, Mac’s hands coming to rest on Dennis’ hips, gripping the fabric of his shirt, Dennis’ hands on his face and in his hair and everywhere.

And they’re kissing. God, they’re finally kissing. And Mac thinks he finally fucking understands what everyone’s been talking about. He feels like he’s floating. Like he can’t breathe and yet he can at the same time, an overwhelming pressure heavy on his chest. He’s dreamt of this for so long. So long. And it’s every little thing he imagined it’d be and everything he wanted it to be and more.

And they’re both crying.

They pull apart for a moment, eyes blurring and refocusing, trying to see each other in the dim light.

“You’re crying,” Mac says dumbly, only vaguely aware of his own tears.

“Shut up,” Dennis responds before ducking in again and kissing any more dumb comments away. 

They kiss more that night and Mac doesn’t think once about the consequences. He doesn’t once think about God or his parents or Hell. He only thinks of Dennis, the feeling of Dennis’ lips on his, the feeling of Dennis’ skin against his, Dennis against him, Dennis, Dennis, Dennis.

They fall asleep like that, on Dennis’ bed, Dennis half laying on top of Mac. When they wake up the next morning neither of them says anything. They carry on like usual. If Dee seems to make fun of them more in the morning about being co-dependent and gay, it doesn’t mean anything.

If Mac stops wearing his cross around his neck for the next couple of days, it doesn’t mean anything.

If he lies awake every night, afraid that he’ll fall asleep and dream of Dennis lips on his once again, it doesn’t mean anything.

If every girl Dennis kisses after that only reminds him of Mac, every time a guy touches him he thinks of Mac, every time he’s alone he thinks about Mac, it doesn’t mean anything.

If they kiss a couple of more times after that, it doesn’t mean anything.

It doesn’t mean anything.

That’s what they tell themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> hmmmm you can find me on tumblr also @ honeysoftt bc i like consistency
> 
> i like to cry about how soft and in love mac and dennis are
> 
> thanks?!


End file.
